


Love's Yakra Arrow

by Vituperative_cupcakes



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen, I Will Go Down With This Ship, adorable brother moments between Yondu's sons, yes I got all this from one interaction so sue me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 16:33:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13640094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vituperative_cupcakes/pseuds/Vituperative_cupcakes
Summary: The awkward fumbles of Kraglin Obfonteri's romantic life.





	Love's Yakra Arrow

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place vaguely post-Guardians 2

Probably no one could say exactly how it began. It was just a gradual increase in certain phenomena that did not seem related at first glance. Kraglin practiced with Yondu’s yakra arrow with a desperate fervency. Nebula would stop by the ship, ostensibly to refuel and share intel on Thanos’s whereabouts. The ship would suffer from mysterious temporary setbacks forcing them to dock near photogenic planets. 

And then there were the questions.

“Hey Gamora. That sister o’ yers stopping by anytime soon?”

“Pete, you think this ravager jacket makes me look distinguished?”

“What kinda hat you think goes well on a head without hair?”

“Man, what is  _ with _ all the bizarro questions lately?” Peter asked one day as they strolled along the ship. Kraglin ducked his head and made a face.

“I can’t be hungry for knowledge? I intend to eduticate myself, Quill.”

“Bein’ curious isn’t a crime, but you’re acting all weird.” Peter turned to Rocket as they reached the bridge. “Isn’t he being weird, Rocket?”

Rocket was looking at a readout and didn’t turn around. “No weirder than you.”

Kraglin was noticeably flushed now that they reached the better light of the bridge. “I’m serious, fellas. I’m just curious is all.”

“Why?”

“Why can’t I ask questions without getting the fourth degree?”

“It’s  _ third _ . Third degree.” Rocket tapped a screen and turned around. “Man, you look...weird. You got Carporian pox or something?”

Kraglin, like anyone who tried to look nonchalant, only succeeded in becoming more disheveled and suspicious.

“I j-just don’t see why a fella can’t ask questions, is all,” Kraglin stammered, his sibilant S becoming more pronounced as he panicked. “I just wanna know when we’ll be in the Zard quadrant, is all. And if there’s a place that sells jewelry or mebbe hats. Or a spare part dealer where I can get a capacitor for this hand I'm workin’ on.”

Peter cocked his head, brow furrowed. Rocket nodded along with the list, realization dawning on his face.

“The hell—he’s sweet on Nebula!”

Both Kraglin and Peter recoiled.

“What?”

“Dangit, it ain’t like that!”

Peter gaped. “He’s right?!”

“Heck, I mean…” Kraglin rubbed the back of his neck and looked down. “...she ain’t hard on the eyes, I know that much.”

Peter’s lower jaw looked like it might never make the return journey to his maxilla. Rocket looked back and forth between the two men and, in an odd show of restraint, did not fall over cackling.

“Look, I don’t know a whole lot about humie relations, but the first step in getting close to that blue psycho is probably talking to her sister.”

“You think she’d put in a good word for me, Pete?” Kraglin asked hopefully.

“Absolutely not,” Peter said when he regained speech. “Look, dude, Kraglin, Imma level with you. This is a terrible idea made out of several smaller terrible ideas to make probably the worst idea in the history of the galaxy.”

“Come on,” Kraglin wheedled, “you’ve got this  _ understanding _ , right?”

“Not  _ that  _ understanding,” Peter said incredulously.

“Look, he’s not gonna let up,” Rocket said to another viewscreen, tone deliberately bored. “Why don’t you at least ask green bean, hmm? What’s it gonna hurt?”

“Me, probably.” But Peter seemed to be recovering from his shock. “Okay, look, I'll consult with Gamora. Just...don’t expect any miracles.”

“Why would we?” Rocket dropped the viewscreen as soon as Peter left the room and turned to Kraglin. “Look, he’s got a point. I don’t like your odds with this one.”

Rocket had been unusually restrained with Kraglin since Yondu’s sacrifice, probably in tribute to the dead ravager. Kraglin’s lip quivered, just a bit, but he rallied.

“Well, I gotta try, don’t I?”

Rocket looked at him for a moment before heaving a sigh and turning back to his screen. “Yeah. Guess you do.”

 

“Gamora? Gamora!” Peter jogged to make their paces draw level. Gamora was walking brusquely to the docking bay.

“Peter, I'm very busy.”

“I know, I know, but,” Peter jogged around so that he was in front of her. Gamora stopped walking with a sigh. 

“You know Kraglin, right?”

“Peter, this isn’t funny.”

“Right?”

Another sigh. “yes.”

“Okay. Okay. Good. you know Nebula, right?”

“My sister?  _ Yes, _ Peter.”

“Okay. Right. Yeah. And you know Kraglin, right?”

“Yes, I don’t see what you…” Gamora trailed off. “Oh no. No, no, no.  _ No. _ What is he thinking?  _ Is _ he thinking?”

“I don’t know!” Peter waved his hands. “You gotta talk to him, I have a feeling he’ll take it more seriously coming from you.”

“Take what? What the hell do I say?” Gamora growled in frustration.

“Tell him the truth. That Nebula will break him in half if he so much as looks at her wrong.”

“Well what about Kraglin? He’s a ravager, they’re not known for their relationship skills.”

Peter grinned. “Well maybe if the women in your family weren’t so smokin’ hot…”

Gamora smiled with strained patience. “Peter. Flirting with me isn’t solving the problem.”

Peter made a little noise and bounced on his heels. “I know. It’s hard to un-flip that switch. Look, hows about we both talk to him?”

 

Kraglin was seated on a galley stool. Peter and Gamora stood before him, tossing the conversational torch back and forth.

“Now, we’re not trying to say you can’t be with Nebula—”

“—nor are we saying that’s necessarily a good idea—”

“—but we want you to proceed with caution—”

“—or perhaps abandon your current course completely—”

“—and just really try to think about why you want to do this—”

“—or why you absolutely shouldn’t.”

Kraglin looked at the both of them. “...what?”

Gamora sighed. “Look, there’s no easy way to say this, but I don’t think you have a chance.”

“Why? I got lotsa skills. Yondu even left me a list of his personal pointers!”

“Look, Yondu could strip a Flumorian schooner in no time flat, but I don’t think social relations were really his strong point, Krag.”

Kraglin looked a little deflated. “Well...yeah, but Nebula’s part bot, right? I’ve had plenty of experience with Contraxian pleasure droids.”

Gamora just said, “oh honey,  _ no _ ,” as Peter rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Kraglin scratched the skull port which housed the control tech for the yakra fin. “Well, what the heck am I s’posed to do? I tried... _ not _ feelin’ it, didn’t work. I tried logickin’ it away, didn’t work. I tried forgettin’ about it,  _ really  _ didn’t work. All that’s left is to give it a shot.”

Peter looked at him gravely. “And if  _ that  _ doesn’t work?”

“Then...I dunno, mebbe I'm not s’posed to be with anyone.” Kraglin spoke to the floor with his shoulders slumped.

Peter and Gamora exchanged a pained look.

“...Okay. If you must.” 

Kraglin perked up slightly. 

“But you need to proceed with all caution, Kraglin. My sister is not...like other girls.”

“I coulda told you that,” Kraglin said, sporting a little grin.

Gamora shot Peter a look, withering his smirk before it could sprout. “I mean, we have both been trained as living weapons our entire lives. Nebula lacks my sentiment where your family is concerned, and has dedicated her remaining life to taking down the tyrant who beat the humanity out of us. I do not think she has much room in her life for...frivolous things right now.”

“Love ain’t frivolous.” Kraglin sat up tall and a note of authority entered his voice. “Y’all’ve taught me that. Love is a weapon mightier than the most powerful infinity rock.” 

Gamora made a series of faces, trying to come up with an argument against that. She looked to Peter, who gave her an arms-wide-open  _ ‘don’t ask me’ _ gesture. She frowned.

“Be that as it may…” she shook her head. “All right. I can’t advise you to do this, but I see now that I can’t stop you.”

“You tried,” Peter said as she walked from the room.

“So why can’t you give me pointers, Pete? You already snagged yerself a badass daughter o’ Thanos, why can’t I get one?”

“Whoa, hey dude, it is not at all like that,” Peter said. Gamora’s frown turned into a little smile of approval as she opened the door and stepped out. Peter waited and watched until the door swung shut behind her. “Being involved with a daughter of Thanos is...110% amazing, it is just the best thing ever.”

A knowing grin crept across Kraglin’s face. “All right, Pete!”

“I mean, we were sparring the other day and she pinned me.” Peter sucked air over his teeth. “Hotter than a supernova. I mean it’s—” he made a series of suggestive gestures.

“So how can I get a piece of that?”

Peter scratched behind his ear as he thought, idly kicking the leg of the galley stool. “Well, first off you gotta be beneath contempt. I mean, she thought I was scum under her shoe when we first met.”

“I think I got that covered.”

“Then you gotta amaze her from some unexpected quarter. I mean really pull out the old razzle-dazzle.”

“What did you do?”

“I saved her from the vacuum of space.”

“Technically Yondu saved y’all.”

“Krag. Come on.” Peter made an irritated noise. “Giving you pointers here. Don’t break my flow.”

“Right. Sorry.” Kraglin held up his hands. “So what else?”

“Do what I like to call the ‘friend creep.’ Be super thoughtful in ways she didn’t even know she needed.”

“I  _ am  _ makin’ her a new hand.”

“I mean in a fancy way. Like opening a door, or giving her your jacket.”

“I thought the last time you tried to do that a buncha birth control rings fell outta your pocket and Gamora went nuts.”

“Dude. Seriously. Tryna help you out.”

“Well hell, Quill, this ain’t exactly helpful, this is all stuff I thought up on my own. I thought you’d have some kinda magic foolproof technique, like how you got all of those babes.”

Peter sighed and shook his head. “Imma level with you here: that wasn’t any magic technique. That was me pulling a bunch of lies out of my ass and not caring if they believed it the next morning. Gamora was different. To be honest I'm not entirely sure why the hell she stuck with me after all the dumb shit I pulled. Just that...somehow she brought something out in me that I didn’t even know was there.”

Kraglin blinked heavily, mild terror dawning on his face. “So you’re saying—”

“I’m saying there’s not a chance if she doesn’t give you a chance, bro.”

Kraglin blinked a hundred more times in the span of a few seconds. “Oh. Okay then.”

“You gonna be alright dude?”

Kraglin slid off the stool. “Well, I gotta go puke my guts out Then I gotta scream into my pillow for about an hour. Then I gotta regroup.”

“That’s the spirit, get back on that horse!” Peter called after his retreating form. “That homicidal cybernetic horse,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head in disbelief.

 

The ship was unusually quiet when Nebula docked. Ancillary system scan did not indicate attack, merely that the crew was occupied in other parts of the ship. Which was not unusual, she did not expect a greeting party every time she docked. What was unusual was Yondu’s former second-in-command hustling into the room in a disheveled state, slightly pale and sweaty.

“Oh hey—you’re early. I mean, welcome aboard.” Kraglin fumbled between a few different gestures, finally sticking out his hand.

Nebula’s inscrutable black gaze looked him up and down. Kraglin sweated profusely.

“Are you ill?”

“No. J-just...excited to...have comp’ny.”

“Are you under the control of a neurological parasite, then?”

“N-no?” Kraglin shifted, making his ravager jacket squeak awkwardly. “I been working on something I have to show somebody sometime and, well, you’re somebody so to you wanna see something really cool?” He blurted out all at once.

Nebula cocked her head. Her limited experience of personal matters told her that the sweaty, loud ravager was not a physical threat, but could not determine more than that.

“Very well,” she said. Kraglin gave a little squeak of excitement.

 

The ship hovered above Trell 7, a planet that lacked animal life but had a wealth of rich greenery, sparkling lakes, and one wine-colored sunset that made all the ship ports light up. Nebula looked bemusedly at Kraglin, who parked the yakra arrow at his feet. After giving it a few nudges here and there, which did not seem to make any visible difference, he dashed over to stand beside Nebula and gave her a weak smile. The ravager wet his lips and gave a shaky whistle. The yakra arrow rose, equally shaky. Breathing slowly and calmly, Kraglin forced his heart to slow as he guided the arrow into a series of sparkling loops. The Xandarian character for “beauty” began taking shape in the air before them. Kraglin risked a glance over at Nebula, who gazed stonefaced at the display.

Suddenly, the arrow darted back at the ship, narrowly avoiding Kraglin as Nebula knocked him to the side. They heard the arrow ricochet inside the ship, finally hitting a target with a meaty thud.

“Aaaah! My sensitive nipples!” Drax screamed from the hall.

Kraglin gaped, failure washing over him as he dared to turn his gaze from the ship to Nebula.

The blue cyborg’s face bore the faintest hint of a smile. 

Feeling returned to Kraglin’s body. He put out a hand to touch her arm.

“Hey, not bad—” was all he managed to get out before Nebula reflexively threw him into the hull.

 

“I must apologize for Kraglin. He has been told to confine his arrow practice to areas away from the ship until he masters it,” Gamora said as she slapped medipacks onto Kraglin’s bruised body.

“He did not cause me any damage, I see no reason for an apology.” Nebula glanced over the ravager, who was grinning nervously. “Anyway, it was an amusing enough distraction.”

Gamora put her hand to Kraglin’s forehead. “Will you be alright, Kraglin?”

“Aw sure,” Kraglin wheezed through cracked ribs, “I've have way worse. I’ll be up and at it in no time.”

“Good.” Gamora hesitated. “I...need to attend something on the bridge. Perhaps you could occupy Nebula for a moment, Kraglin?”

“Sure thing.”

Nebula shot an even more bemused glance at Gamora’s retreating back. “Do not take too long.”

“So,” Kraglin said after a long and awkward silence had stewed between them. “I got you a little sump’ in that box over there. Sorry it’s not fancy-wrapped or nothin’.”

Nebula found a small electronics box, the kind used to hold spare parts, sitting on a shelf. She opened it.

“....a hand?”

“Yeah. I been tinkerin’, well, Rocket’s helped me some, but I got that hand at a place down by Knowhere, gets some good contraband. Came from Moli Cybernetics before they went bust, got all the bells and whistles and such. Even has touch-sensors, like it’s a regular hand.” Kraglin babbled.

Nebula removed the spare hand from the box, jostling something beneath it. She extracted the object and held it out at arm’s length.

“A necklace?”

“Yeah. See, this is real neat.” Kraglin sat up laboriously. “This is a Qwon-tu necklace, belongs to this race of lizard people who can kill shit with their minds. The pendant shoots a laser when you think this certain word in their language. I figured it’s pretty but deadly, kinda like…” he trailed off, a panicked look on his face as if he’d said too much.

Nebula twisted the necklace this way and that, the poison-green pendant catching the light. “I don’t understand. You’re giving me this?”

“Well, yeah. Gamora said you’re fighting Thanos, so I figured you need alllll the help you can get.”

Nebula looked at him, hoisting the necklace. “Thanos is the most powerful destructive force in the galaxy. The use of this pendant would be akin to that of a small rock attempting to destroy a planet.”

“I guess.” Kraglin looked bummed for a moment, then grinned. “But hey, gives you the element of surprise, don’t it? He’ll be like,  _ ‘hey, Nebula’s got a fancy new necklace,’ _ then it zaps him in the face and he’ll be like  _ ‘aaargh, I didn’t expect that at all!’” _

Nebula tilted her head. Her mouth quirked oddly at the corners. “...and you expect this to assist in my quest for vengeance?”

Kraglin squirmed. “Well...I ain’t the world’s best fighter, and I don’t have super-smarts like Rocket or strength like Gamora, but…I wanna help. That Thanos guy is a-a jerk.”

Nebula’s gaze lingered on his face for an uncomfortable amount of time. “That he is,” she said finally.

“Wait!” Kraglin called as she slid the necklace and the hand back in the box. “I know you’re real busy right now, getting revenge and all, but do you think sometime...maybe in the future when you’re all done, you might have time to just...I don’t know, hang out?”

Nebula’s gaze was cold and exacting. “Thanos is a blight on the entire galaxy. I have dedicated my remaining life to destroying him and scattering his ashes in every black hole from here to the end of the universe. Even if I must prolong my life a hundred, a thousand years, I will end him.”

Kraglin blinked. “Yeah. But  _ after  _ that?”

Nebula thought. “Perhaps,” she admitted.

Peter dodged around her as she left the room, shooting finger-guns at the contemptuous look she shot him. “Hey buddy,” he said as he took a seat beside Kraglin’s bed. “Heard about what happened. I’m real sorry. But what about just now, before she left the room? Was that a yes?”

Kraglin could not stop grinning in the direction Nebula had gone. “It wasn’t a no.”


End file.
